


The Tail of Two Teachers

by Lumelle



Series: Spare Parts [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Getting Together, Grumpy Logan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is not going to help the stupid runaway girl who has ended up a long way from home. He is also not going to stay any longer than what is necessary to deposit her back in her worried family's arms. He's absolutely not going to turn his extended stay into a semi-stable teaching job.</p><p>He's especially not going to fall for a fellow teacher in this particular madhouse masquerading as a school, no matter how much his golden eyes shine.</p><p>It's all Kurt's fault, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Start of a Strange Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little bit of background on how these two actually ended up together. Also, I just enjoy writing grumpy Logan being happy but not admitting it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan somehow finds himself in Westchester.

The girl was far too young and pretty to be in a place like this by herself.

Not that Logan gave a fuck either way, of course. What she did was her own damn business, and certainly not his responsibility. As long as the owner didn't kick her out, she could sit where she pleased, and it was no skin off his teeth. Besides, Logan had learned long ago not to go borrowing trouble. He tended to have plenty of it on his own.

If he'd been the type to care, he might have wondered what the hell she was doing there. She couldn't have been local; she was too awkward to have been here before, too wary of every loud sound and every person passing too close. If she'd been raised that dainty up here, she never would have stepped a foot inside such a dive. No, she wasn't from around here, and didn't know what she was doing and where she was going, and she'd probably end up in a ditch somewhere sooner or later because clearly she had no plan and no idea and was more concerned with getting away from somewhere than reaching some particular destination.

Not that Logan cared. Because he clearly did not.

Someone approached her now, a guy after a drink or three too many, just enough to provide encouragement and inhibit common sense. He said something to her, and she shrank back, trying to pretend he didn't exist. Because that was clearly going to work well. It never did, not on drunks like that. More likely it'd make him snap from friendly and lustful to angry at a moment's notice.

There was absolutely no reason for Logan to listen in. He was just bored, that's all.

"Didn't you hear me?" Yeah, definitely a tone of testiness entering the guy's voice. "Or are you too good to speak to anyone, hmm?"

"Go away." She spoke up now at least, but still too quiet, too unsure.

"And if I don't want to?" He stepped forward, into her space. "What if this is where I want to be, huh? What are you going to do about that, pretty?" He reached out to touch her shoulder, only to get his arm swatted aside by a small, gloved hand.

"Don't touch me." She stiffened. "Believe me, you don't want to do that."

"Funny, because I think different." The man's eyes took on an expression he probably thought of as sly. "I think that's precisely what I want to do." He reached his hand toward her again, and she shrank back, eyes wide with what could only be fear.

Logan wasn't sure when he had stood up, he just noticed that he was now on his feet. Clearly, whatever he had learned about not borrowing trouble had not stuck.

He wasn't sure what he was planning to do, wasn't sure if he was going to do anything. If there had been any thought in his head regarding such things it was lost as the man's hand darted forward, surprisingly quick for someone at his level of intoxication, and cupped the side of her face before she could stop him.

His scream managed to break over the usual din of the place.

Everyone turned to look now, and Logan cursed under his breath. The man was staggering backwards, gasping for breath. His skin was deathly pale, his features drawn in a mask of pain. As Logan watched, he fell back and lay on the floor, unmoving.

There was a moment's pause. Then people was rushing forward, yelling and screaming accusations. Some of the more intelligent or sober ones were fading into the background, making for a quick exit while they still could, but there was still enough of the madly rushing ones to make for a sizable mob. The girl had made it to her feet now, but she didn't look like she was going to do anything constructive, hugging herself with her gloved hands.

Well, clearly his instincts had decided to get him in trouble anyway. He'd have liked to at least finish his beer first, though.

"Enough." He stepped between the girl and the first idiot who wanted to prove his manliness by beating up a kid. Christ, looking at her from close up, she couldn't be more than maybe sixteen, seventeen at most.

"You saw what she did!" The man was shouting with enough fervor that spittle flew at Logan. He did not like that one bit.

"Really? And what is it she did? From where I was sitting, he was the one getting out of line."

"She killed him!" Which was obviously ridiculous. Logan could still hear the man breathing, so clearly he wasn't dead. Not that any of these numbskulls would have taken the time to check. "He touched her and died! She's some kind of a witch!"

"Witch. Really." Not that he'd expected any actual common sense from the average customer of such an establishment. "So what do you plan to do? Punch her? Because I can see that working out real well for you, bub."

"Get out of the way and we'll figure it out." One of them was actually holding a chair leg. What was this, a bad comedy?

"I don't think so." And, because that didn't seem to be making his point clearly enough, he raised his fist.

When that wasn't enough, he raised his claws, too.

This mess was how he ended up in his car much sooner than he'd anticipated, without ever finishing that last beer. And really, he could only blame himself for his idiocy. He should have known better than to get involved in other people's messes.

"Are you a mutant, too?"

He really should have known better than to get involved in other people's messes.

"Dunno what that means." He grunted, not taking his eyes off the road. He kid had better be able to handle him not making eye contact during their little heart to heart or whatever the fuck this was. "I do things most people don't. That about cover it?"

"Sounds like a mutant to me." She sank back into the seat, looking like she was doing her best to make herself as small as possible.

"You know a lot about mutants, huh."

"Some." Her voice was little more than a murmur. "I'm a mutant, too."

"Yeah, kind of figured there was something going on there." He grunted. "What's that thing you did to him?"

"I didn't do it." Yeah, and he was a fucking fairy godmother. "Not on purpose, at least. It's... I can't help it. When someone touches me, they get hurt." She paused for a moment. "I already hurt someone."

"That why you're running from home?" At her surprised breath, he rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that, doll. Nobody like you ends up in that kind of a dive unless they're running from something. Hell, nobody ends up in a dive like that unless they're running, period."

"What are you running from, then?" Ah, so she was sharper than she looked. Too bad she was still lacking in the common sense department.

"Nothing." He could practically feel the dubious look boring into his skull. "I mean it. There's nothing I'm running from. Because I have nothing." Nothing he could remember, at least.

"Ah." Her voice was even softer, now. "I'm sorry."

"So. You find out you're a mutant, not that I still know what that means, and you hurt someone. Then what? Parents kick you out?" It wasn't an unreasonable guess, certainly not if her ability was so dangerous.

"No. No, they — they never would. They're mutants, too." He saw from the corner of his eye as she bit her lip. "I'm just — I'm afraid I'll end up hurting one of the kids."

"Younger siblings?" Why was he even asking this? He should just tell her to shut up and drive on, drop her off a town or two from here so she wouldn't get lynched right away, and keep driving. Yet apparently his mouth had decided to get stuck on chatty mode, because he couldn't stop talking.

He really wanted the rest of his beer right now.

"No, I'm the youngest. It's — I live in a school." She squirmed a bit. "A boarding school, that is. My uncle owns the place."

"And this uncle of yours employs family even when they're mutants?" Hey, people had done stranger things. And if she thought he was a mutant too, maybe they weren't all so lethal.

"Of course. It's a school for mutants."

It was a show of very strong force of will and mercy for his car that Logan didn't hit the brakes right then and there. Instead, he kept driving, steady as ever, for a long while.

"So you mean to tell me," he said once the girl had squirmed for a while, "that you live in a place full of mutants, with loving and accepting mutant parents, in a pretty little mutant paradise, and you run away from home because you don't think they can accept you're a mutant?"

Oh, hell, she was actually biting her lip. Forget sixteen, clearly she was six. "When you say it like that, it does sound a bit stupid."

"That's because it is." Logan muttered a curse. "Right. Where's your home?"

"What?" Her eyes widened a bit.

"You heard me, kid. Where is it you live? Because I'm driving you right back there." Hey, it wasn't like he had any particular destination in mind, anyway.

"Um. Westchester. In New York. But that's not —"

"Shut up." Logan rolled his eyes. "I've heard of many entitled little brats in my time, but you take the cake. There's enough damn persecution in the world, you don't have to go and make up your own."

"You — you'd really drive me back?" She sounded like she wasn't sure if she was afraid or relieved. Shouldn't have ran away quite so hastily, clearly.

"It's a matter of principle at this point. Clearly, you've got things too nice if you can afford to throw it all away because you think your particular circumstances are so much worse and more miserable than anyone else's." He grunted. "And hey, if I'm lucky, your parents might be grateful enough to give me some gas money for my troubles." Not that he didn't have a small stash tucked away, but some more could hardly hurt. Especially since he was apparently going to be taking a long trip in an unexpected direction.

She didn't say anything for a long time. When he finally threw a glance her way, he realized she had fallen asleep. Clearly she was exhausted if she could just doze off in the middle of their absolutely charming conversation.

Good. He'd been missing the silence.

He didn't need a soundtrack while he lectured himself on what an absolute idiot he apparently was.

*

"So." Logan stared at the rather imposing gate. "This is where you live, huh."

"Yeah, well, it's not just my home, you know." She was squirming now. She'd been chattering on about all kinds of nonsense most of the day, clearly trying to cover up her nervousness. Logan hadn't paid much attention, knowing there was nothing of importance that she wanted to say right now. Here they were, though, in front of the gate, and she couldn't hide away any longer.

"Yeah, I know. A school as well." As he drove closer, wondering if they'd have to call for someone to open, the gates slid open of their own accord. As he glanced at her in question, she gave a small shrug.

"They're only locked during the night. It wouldn't make sense not to let people in at sensible hours."

"Clearly security isn't your primary concern." Nevertheless, he drove in along the driveway. Definitely not a poor place, this one. There was a sizable garden reaching to all directions, and he could see a forest further away. That, and then there were all the huge, decorative buildings. "Tuition must be through the roof in this place."

"Actually, there isn't any." As he gave her an incredulous look, she squirmed again. "Ah. Some students' parents make donations, yes, and there are former students who help where they can, too, but other than that, it's free. Charles funds all this out of his own pocket. So, you know, you don't have to worry about your gas money." She added the last part in a sort of hopeful tone, as though she had actually thought that was the thing he was most concerned about.

"If I was that worried about my money, I wouldn't have driven you this far." As they got closer to the building, he saw children running closer. Clearly there were no classes at the moment, if there were so many of them just milling about, free to stare at just any car. A couple that got close enough to get a good look started shouting, running towards the building. "I guess that's it for a surprise visit, huh."

"Oh, it was never going to be a surprise." She refused to clarify that particular statement, though, merely staring out of the side window.

"So. You think they're going to be mad at you for running off?" Which was probably a bit late of a question now that they were already getting up to the main yard. But, hey, clearly she still felt the need for chatter, and he'd been enabling her this far.

"Oh, Mutter will yell at me, that's for sure. The rest will be too relieved that I got back." Her voice softened a bit as she looked out. The children were all starting to gather in one big crowd as Logan brought the car to a stop. The youngest ones were perhaps ten, working all the way up to gangly teenagers. Most of them looked normal enough, but a few had something wonky about them. Nothing big or obvious at a first glance, a feather here or weird eye color there, but a closer look definitely made it clear these weren't just any kids.

She took a deep breath or two as the car stopped, then opened the door. Logan waited a moment before he did the same, stepping out after her. He supposed that actually showing his face was marginally less of a creep move than just driving the kid here and turning around right away.

"Anna Marie?" The front door opened and two women appeared there. One of them was staring blindly in the distance — literally so, Logan realized as she moved close enough for him to see her white eyes. The other, a frankly perfect blonde, hovered close as her companion hurried down the couple of steps leading to the door as though it had been a smooth path. "Anna Marie, is that really you?"

"Mom?" And now her voice was cracking. "Mom, it's me. I — I came back."

"Oh, Anna Marie." Right, that was the girl's name. She'd said it at some point, but Logan honestly hadn't been paying much attention. "We were so worried about you, my darling." The blind woman threw her arms around the girl, heedless of her warnings. Anna Marie froze for a moment, then very carefully placed her gloved hands at her mother's back.

"You are in so much trouble, young lady, I don't even know where to begin." The blonde came up to them now, hands on her hips, and, oh. Mutter and Mom. Right. "You'll have to count yourself lucky if I don't ground you until you're forty."

"I just didn't want to hurt anyone else." Even so, Anna Marie was starting to sound a lot less certain now.

"Please, Anna Marie. You should know by now that there is no better place for you to learn that than right here." This time a new voice joined the conversation. Logan looked up, seeing a guy in a wheelchair appearing at the door. The man's eyes met him, his gaze kind but sharp. This wasn't a stupid man he was dealing with, here. "And I presume you are the one we can thank for bringing her back to us?"

Logan shrugged, leaning his hip against the car. "I drove her back, that's all."

"You are rather downplaying the great favor you have done us." The man smiled at him. "We have been quite distraught over her disappearance. Please, let us give you some reward at least."

He gave another shrug. "Well, I won't complain if you throw some gas money my way. I did make a bit of a detour to get here."

"You don't say." The man lifted an eyebrow, and Logan had the feeling he was about to say something else, when someone rushed out right over him. Not past him, no, whoever was coming out was in so much of a hurry, they decided to simply leap right over the wheelchair instead, continuing with an apparently effortless somersault down the steps and to the ground.

Logan couldn't help but stare. Even aside from the utter idiocy of a stunt like that, the man standing there now with a slightly manic grin was like nothing he had ever seen before. If it was a man; that was certainly the impression he got, but then the guy's anatomy was so far off the standard that Logan wasn't going to take anything for granted. He was blue, for one thing, from the tips of his pointed ears down to the weird bare feet with almost birdlike toes, his legs bending in a way no human would have chosen to stand in such a relaxed manner. To top it all off he had a tail, a honest to goodness tail with a pointed tip at the end, and as Logan's eyes briefly met his solid golden gaze he started to wonder how he had ever thought random foot-long claws were that big of a deal, really, clearly he was nowhere near the top of the strangeness scale.

"Anna Marie!" The guy basically tackled the poor girl, who had just been released from her mother's embrace. "Don't you ever, ever scare me like that again!"

"Kurt, calm down." There was a slightly hysterical tone to her voice as she only barely managed to stay upright, but there was a smile threatening to crawl up on her face as well. "You almost knocked me over."

"Ach, but I would have caught you as always." He flashed her a grin, with very pointy teeth, and Logan had to wonder if it would have been possible for him to look more demonic. Maybe if he'd been red instead.

"You should be ashamed, kid." Logan smirked. "Leaving a fine young man like this behind, just like that?"

"Huh?" Anna Marie blinked, then her eyes widened in realization. "What — no! No no no, ick, no way. Kurt's my brother!"

Brother. This guy was her brother, with his golden eyes and blue skin and tail and the three-fingered hands, apparently perfectly happy with his life, and she had dared to throw a drama fit over having to wear gloves, boohoo woe was her? She was damn lucky she was probably still destined for a good, long lecturing from her mother or Logan would have started yelling at her then and there. Yeah, sure, teenagers could get self-centered, but was she a total idiot?

He recalled the circumstances where he'd met her, and blinked. Well, he wasn't going to rule the idiot bit out just yet.

"Indeed I am." The man released her, now, turning to look at Logan instead. "And I am also eternally grateful that you returned my little sister home, safe and sound."

"Wasn't going to take it on my conscience if she got herself killed." Not that he generally paid much attention to such useless things as consciences.

"That's all the more reason for us to be grateful." The man — Kurt? That was the name Anna Marie had used — reached out to grasp Logan's hand, just like that without any warning, and it wasn't until then that he realized the man's skin was covered with short, smooth fur. He tensed, but Kurt didn't seem to even notice, his other hand grasping Anna Marie's gloved one. "Come on, both of you. There's still some dinner left."

Logan was going to say no, of course. He didn't need to be fed like some stray dog. He'd brought the girl here on a whim, because he had nothing better to do and because she was an ungrateful brat who didn't know how well she had it, that was all. He hadn't been looking for a reward, he'd just dropped the girl off and would be on his way soon enough, and he damn well wasn't going to come in and sit down for a civilized dinner just because some guy with a brilliant grin and sparkling golden eyes was asking him to.

Some two weeks later he paused as he was walking across the yard, right back from helping Bobby fix the piece of fencing around the basketball yard because for all the amazing talents in this place they were woefully short on people who could hold simple tools the right way around, and thought, 'Well, damn.'

It was all Kurt's fault anyway, though, so he wasn't going to bother himself too much with it.


	2. Unnecessary Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan somehow ends up being a teacher despite his best intentions. Or worst, depending on how you look at it.

Not that he would have admitted it, but Logan actually rather liked doing odd jobs around the place.

For one thing, it made him feel less like a freeloader, and he'd never liked being in someone's debt. Besides, people who offered you things for free were always suspicious, so he was actually somewhat relieved the first time he was asked to help Bobby repair a couple of stairs that one of the kids had apparently burned through by accident. After they finished he'd gone to the dining room, where the last students were finishing dinner, and felt like he didn't need to question just why they chose to feed him as well.

It gave him something to do, too, when he wasn't wandering around the grounds of the school or brooding alone in some lonely corner. Not that he couldn't amuse himself if needed to, years of being alone had taught him how to do that well enough, but then he'd also gotten accustomed to occasionally earning cash with good old-fashioned handiwork. The occasional repair jobs that needed to be done around the school gave him something to occupy himself with, and as he let himself get lost in the rhythm of the work he managed to banish all the complicated thoughts that sometimes tried to worm their way into his mind.

It was a good system, and one that worked well. He worked hard when asked to, and found his own entertainment when he wasn't, and for this he was provided with room and board and enough space to retire to some peace and quiet when he needed it. Whenever he sat down in front of the TV for a game, company seemed to materialize, but they were bearing beer more often than not so he didn't really mind. All in all, it was something he almost could have gotten used to.

Over time, though, it started to get a bit monotonous, and he was itching for something else to occupy himself with. Poking around in the huge hall that Xavier had the gall to have named a garage, he came across something quite interesting in one dusty corner.

"A motorbike?" The Professor blinked as Logan walked up to him later that day. "Now where did you come across such a thing?"

"In a corner of the garage. Looked pretty beat up. Don't think anyone's touched it in years." Logan rolled his shoulders, which was absolutely not fidgeting. He always felt slightly uneasy around the professor, too big and rough, which was not exactly a familiar feeling. Oh, he was rough enough, but never a tall man; the Professor, however, was always below his eye level, seated as he was, and facing that smaller figure with his impeccable manners and fine clothes always made Logan feel bulky in a way nothing else had in all the time he could remember. "That belong to anyone?"

"Oh, goodness me. I wouldn't think so." Charles shook his head. "I seem to recall one of the students had a bike some years back, but he cast it aside after his skills weren't enough to repair it anymore. That must be it, now that I think about it. He has long since left the school, though, so the bike seems to have been abandoned."

"Figured it was something like that." Certainly it didn't have an owner who gave a shit. "So, anyone going to mind if I tinker with it some time? Don't know if I can make anything of it, but it might pass the time."

"Why, absolutely. There's no sense in letting it rust away all unattended." Charles smiled as he apparently came across some sort of a brilliant realization. "Oh, I know. Would you mind if some of the students watched you work? I'm sure many of them would find it interesting and instructive. For your troubles, I will of course be happy to cover any tools and parts you might require."

This was how Logan ended up with a corner set aside in the garage for his bike project, and a following of spotty teenagers who wandered in to watch him work. They were all quiet at first, not daring to disturb him, but eventually the braver ones asked a question here, another there. Sometimes Logan answered them, sometimes he just grunted in reply when he didn't feel like it, and the children seemed to accept that as his way of things. The audience didn't bother him as much as he might have thought, and at least they knew to keep their grabby hands away from his bike.

After a week or two he approached the Professor again, this time about getting a scrap bike or two from somewhere for the kids to work on. They were getting increasingly more curious, he reasoned, and he'd rather not have them ruin all his hard work by poking at the bike behind his back. If they had a project of their own, they might be better persuaded not to try their luck with his. Charles smiled, as he always did, and told Logan he would look into it.

He wasn't entirely sure when his little project had expanded to take up an area that would have fit at least two garages in a regular house, with rows of fine tools and neatly sorted parts lined up against the back wall, and a dozen or so girls and boys with greasy hands wearing focused expressions as they took apart old bikes with every intention of putting them back together better, but hey, at least they left his bike alone, so it was all good. Besides, one of the kids had an almost uncanny ability to find whatever part wasn't playing nice with the rest, and Logan wasn't above taking advantage of that when his latest tune-up didn't perform as expected.

The first time he rode his newly repaired bike out to town for a drink, he felt freer than he could recall ever doing over his years on the road.

It wasn't bike grease and the smell of gas that came to mind as Emma Frost approached him one morning, though. She wasn't hostile toward him, not really, but Logan got the feeling she kept her distance to most people, and this included him. Therefore it was something of a surprise when she spotted him eating breakfast in the dining hall and, instead of giving him an ever so graceful nod and continuing on her way, instead made a beeline for his table.

"Ah, exactly who I was hoping to see." She sat down opposite to him, clearly expecting to be welcome. Logan merely lifted an eyebrow in question. If she chose to interrupt his breakfast, she'd damn well better accept that he wasn't going to stop eating it just for her sake. "I need a favor."

"Really, now." Logan swallowed another bite of his eggs. "And what do I get out of it?"

She tsked, shaking her head at his uncouth behavior. Well, she could disapprove all she wanted. It wasn't like he had told her he wouldn't do it. Besides, she was the one who hadn't given him any information on what exactly she wanted of him. "Well, I do have this bottle of very fine whiskey sitting all alone on top of my bookshelf. I might be persuaded to part from it."

Well. That sounded good, which probably meant the favor was terrible. "I'm listening." Not committing, though. Not before he knew what kind of a mess he was getting himself into.

"I need someone to watch my noon class, and nobody else is free." Before Logan could snap his refusal, she lifted a hand. "Oh, no, I do not expect you to do any teaching. I have prepared worksheets for them, and I will leave full instructions on the blackboard. I simply need you to keep an eye on them, make sure that they focus more on their work than they do on making a mess or trying to climb out the window. Like they did the last time I tried to leave them without supervision."

"You know I don't do well with brats." Though for some reason the younger ones seemed to find him endlessly fascinating, if a bit scary; he was someone to watch from afar with curious eyes only for them to run off giggling if he happened to glance their way. He sometimes wondered if the reason most people didn't seem to manifest their mutant abilities until their teens was simply that the ones who manifested earlier were too damn stupid to survive long enough for anyone to notice.

"Yes, well, the youngest one in this class is fifteen." At his incredulous gaze, she sighed. "They are... an active bunch. But they know better than to act up if someone is there to keep them in line."

"I can't guarantee I won't swear at them if they try anything stupid."

Emma's lips twitched. Of course, since she knew she had already won. "Oh, that won't be a problem. After all, if they don't learn such things in English class, where would they?"

He did end up getting his bottle, and damn fine whiskey it was. He later got another bottle and an actual laugh out of Emma when she found out he had told one particularly rebellious kid that he was allowed to swear in Logan's class if, and only if, he could produce a well-crafted essay about the correct grammatical use of various swear words. If they were going to swear either way, they might just as well not sound like absolute idiots doing it, after all. Nothing was more embarrassing than a guy with an occasional squeaky voice and no clue about which place in the sentence his swear words were supposed to go in. 'The hell get out,' Logan's ass.

He got asked to cover more classes after that, probably since he had somehow managed to hold himself back from snapping any teenage necks, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Clearly his reputation, already rather fearsome from his more casual encounters with the students around the school, had spread ever since the first class. The students knew he'd let them get away with certain things some of the other instructors wouldn't, but in exchange was considerably stricter about others. The actual teachers could have their own rules for the classroom, Logan had his, and when he was the one behind the desk they were going to play by his rules, no matter what anyone else thought about it.

It was during a History class that he first took more of an active part than simply keeping the kids focused on learning. They were studying the second World War, and one of the kids asked him something to do with soldiers in the trenches. The snap of looking it up in the book was on the tip of Logan's tongue, but instead he found himself answering, just like that, without needing to think too hard on it. Perhaps he had studied the subject at some point in his hazy history, and apparently at length; before long he found himself getting tangled in a rather detailed story of the realities of war, with a very attentive audience who had entirely forgotten their books. He'd expected to be told off later, having distracted the kids from what they were supposed to do, but to his surprise he instead got asked if he would mind covering more History classes. The kids had apparently found him interesting, and there was nothing Charles loved more than fostering a healthy thirst for knowledge in his students. That was how he pitched it to Logan, in any case; Logan suspected this had more to do with the fact that Bobby found History a total bore to teach and had been all too happy to slip away.

He was not entirely sure how he ended up picking up some of the Geography lessons as well, especially since Warren hadn't seemed to mind covering it, but at least it meant he would no more have to growl at one of the less learned kids for thinking that Canada was part of the United States.

It was in front of the TV that Kurt found him one night, a stack of papers in his lap and a bottle of beer at his side. Maybe it wasn't good procedure to grade papers while drinking, but, hell, he wasn't going to face some of this shit on a glass of milk. He wasn't sure where one of the kids had managed to learn that Narnia was a place somewhere near Nepal, but this was what red pens had been invented for.

"You look busy." Kurt perched himself on the arm of the couch like some kind of a curious bird, tail swishing from one side to the other.

"Not really." He underlined another piece of completely ridiculous bullshit. Maybe he should get more shades of red. "I'll be busy soon enough, though, since it seems half of these idiots are going to be needing remedial classes. Or at least a damn good yelling for not studying properly."

"Oh, I'm sure the situation isn't that serious." Of course he could talk. He wasn't assigning papers. "I meant to tell you, the Professor asked to see you."

"Oh?" He lifted an eyebrow, turning his gaze back to the papers. "About what?"

"From what I understand, he wanted to negotiate the terms of your pay."

Logan glanced at Kurt. "What pay?"

"For the teaching, of course." Kurt cocked his head to the side. "You are aware that you currently have a full course load, are you not?"

It was a good thing he hadn't been taking a gulp of his beer just then, or it would have been wasted. "No I don't."

"Oh, but you do." Kurt hopped over to the coffee table, because apparently sitting still for a moment was against his nature or something. "I know it may not seem like it, since we do not have many classes, but it all really does add up. You are handling practically all of our History classes now, and the high school Geography besides. Between that, and the mechanics lessons, and the Japanese tutoring you are providing to some of the students, you work as many hours as any of the rest of us do."

"I'm not a teacher, though." He paused, looking down at the papers in his lap. "Well. Not good enough of one that you'd want to pay me to do it, anyway."

"Oh, I rather disagree. The children seem to like your classes." Kurt grinned. "That, and you seem to take it as a personal affront when they are not learning. That alone makes you infinitely better a teacher than someone who would not care."

"Bullshit." Logan grunted. "But, hey, if he wants to pay me, I'm not going to stop him. Even if we both know he's only doing it so I'll stop raiding his liqour cabinet and buy my own instead."

Kurt laughed, a bright, clear sound that seemed almost wrong coming out of someone so demonic in appearance. "Oh, if that were his wish, he would have learned better by now. Raiding my dear uncle's cabinet is something of a staff tradition."

"Not sure if that's a good thing in an establishment where you're responsible for kids."

"Ach, but that is why we simply need to plan it for the days when we are not personally responsible for the children." Kurt's grin broadened. "You must accompany Bobby, Warren, and myself the next time we play our bridezilla drinking game."

"I don't think my testosterone levels would survive something like that." He was absolutely not intrigued about how it would work. He was not.

"Oh, but it is such an ingenious game, though. We simply pick a wedding show, then take a drink any time someone does or says something so awful it should make their partner seriously reconsider the idea of marrying them."

"I'm not sure if I've ever heard of anything gayer." He paused. "Not to say that it's bad because it's gay. It can be both without either of the two causing the other." Hey, the guy did have two mothers.

Kurt just laughed, apparently amused by his comment. "Oh, fear not. I will persuade them to leave the sparkly feather boas aside just this once."

The worst thing was, Logan wasn't entirely sure he was joking.


	3. Wet Elf Smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan occasionally wonders about the orientations of Xavier's staff. Kurt, as it happens, decides to make his very obvious to Logan.

The longer Logan stayed at the school, the more he started to wonder just how Charles picked his teachers.

Okay, they were all mutants, for one, and he seemed to be in the habit of employing family where he could and taking in strays where he couldn't. However, looking at the dynamics of the core staff Logan was starting to wonder if Charles had something against straight teachers.

He'd met Irene and Raven the moment he arrived, of course, the sappiest couple he had met in ages, which was rather strange because Raven was far from sappy. She simply seemed to indulge in Irene's tendencies, and her wife was more than happy to display her affection in fleeting touches and soft words. For all that Raven never openly returned them she was still happy enough to draw Irene close on a couch sometimes and read aloud to her, voice calm and quiet yet just loud enough to carry over the sounds of other people around them. According to Kurt, they had been together for decades, and Logan could easily believe that. He also had no trouble believing that they had married the first day it had become legal for them to do so. Of course Irene would have wanted that.

He was just going to ignore the casual mention that both Raven and Irene were Kurt and Anna Marie's biological parents. That was something he did not wish to examine in detail.

Bobby and Warren were both unattached, but had dated each other at some point. Logan had learned this from an off-hand mention by Kurt, much the same way he acquired a lot of his information about the personal lives of the other adults in this barely organized madhouse. He still had no idea why they had split up, but then he supposed it wasn't any of his business. They seemed to be good enough friends, still, and sometimes Logan wondered if their relationship had simply been due to being two gay men both stuck in a place with limited dating options. Still not his business, but, well, he did wonder.

There was Charles himself, of course, the one who never made an effort to take part in any discussion about attractive people. From the jokes Raven made Logan had concluded that Charles had had a very active love life back in his youth, but he had no idea how much of that was actually indicative of anything and how much was just sisterly teasing. What he did know was that there was a picture in Charles's office of a man with a serious expression and sharp eyes, and sometimes Charles could be found deep in thought, eyes locked on the picture.

None of his business. Absolutely none.

Emma was Emma, of course, the ice queen with little regard for anyone who wasn't Emma Frost, while Hank closed himself up in his laboratory more often than not. Even not counting them, though, that was at least five people with some level of attraction to the same sex in a teaching staff that didn't even number ten. Maybe it was just a chance distribution, he wouldn't have known; the sample size wasn't exactly enough for any kind of meaningful analysis, as he was sure Hank would have pointed out while fingering his tiny glasses. Nevertheless, it amused Logan to no end sometimes, which was probably a sign he had spent far too long in this madhouse. Why else would he have found any entertainment in other people's private lives? It wasn't like their preferences affected his life either way.

Well. Most of their preferences didn't affect his life either way.

Then there was Kurt. Kurt, who was always smiling and friendly and had no trouble teasing Logan even when others got wary around him, who seemed to crave contact as much as his sister avoided it. It seemed strange someone like him would not already have a partner, or at least a string of past lovers to boast with, but far as he could tell Kurt was completely unattached, and had never mentioned any past relationships either. Logan chose to blame this strange state of affairs on the fact that he seemed to have spent most of his life within the school grounds, for all that he had managed to pick up an accent from somewhere.

It wasn't like it was any of his business, anyway. Or, indeed, of any interest to him.

All that this meant to Logan was that there was nobody to give him jealous gazes when Kurt decided napping against his shoulder would be the perfect way to disrupt his attempts at grading papers, or to question him when Kurt decided playing tag in the woods was the perfect way to spend a free afternoon. Not that there was anything to warrant any glares or questions in any case, of course, just a fuzzy elf who clearly did not have enough to do with his time without bothering Logan.

Not that he minded their games, of course; he hardly would have agreed to them otherwise. It was good exercise, running through the forest after Kurt, and the acrobatics and teleportation actually made him a rather challenging opponent. And if he sometimes lingered just a second too long after wrestling the elf to the ground, staring down at the bright eyes and even brighter grin as they both breathed heavily, well, he was only flesh and blood, after all. He always stood up right afterwards, anyway, and Kurt never said a word of complaint, so obviously he wasn't being inappropriate or anything.

What he did afterwards alone in his room, thinking of the feel of sweat-slicked fur under his fingertips, well, it couldn't be inappropriate if nobody was there to be offended, now could it.

It didn't actually mean anything, of course. It had just been a while since he had any significant action on that front, so he was projecting his pent-up lust on the easiest target available. There weren't that many single adults at the school, and with Kurt's constant tackles and hugs and brief brushes against his hand it was only natural Logan's imagination would turn to him for fantasy fodder. What else was he supposed to do, anyway? It wasn't like he could just show up with flowers and wine or whatever the hell it was people used for all their romantic needs. Kurt would have probably asked the professor to check if there was something wrong with his head if he had.

He was just going to ignore any stray thoughts he might have had about how he could entangle his fingers with Kurt's fewer ones, or how the fine fur of Kurt's cheeks would feel against his lips. Clearly he had spent far too much time in this madhouse if he was contemplating such details. It was turning his brain soft in the worst ways.

The longer this went on, though, the more aware he became that a certain conclusion was more or less inevitable. Kurt was touching him in a more casual manner, now, making completely unnecessary contact that he didn't seem to share with others, for all that he seemed free with his touches. He'd slap Warren on the shoulder, would tackle Bobby down in retaliation for some childish prank or another, even hug Emma on a particularly grumpy day in what Logan decided was a sign of either immeasurable bravery or unlimited stupidity or quite possibly both. However, Logan seemed to be the only one who got the soft brush on the back of his hand when Kurt walked past him, the only one who got his wrist tugged by a very dexterous tail instead of just hearing his name called, the only one who was bestowed so many small, inconsequential touches that they built up into something enormous.

He might have blamed Kurt for all this, but then, Logan was the one who was keeping track of all this. Clearly some deluded part of him cared more than he probably should have.

Just because something was expected didn't mean it couldn't take you by surprise, though. This was true for the rain that had dominated the forecast yet avoided them for the better part of the day, only to come crashing down in the late afternoon just as most of the students were outside enjoying the last warm days of autumn. The dark clouds rolled in quickly enough that by the time Logan realized he would not have the time to find the stupid lost basketball in the hedge, it was too late to even try to get inside nice and dry. The rain didn't come in as a peaceful drizzle, either; it poured down on them with all the wrath of an angry god, soaking right through all his clothes and probably halfway through his skin besides.

"Oh, fuck it." The rain was thick enough he could only barely see the fleeing figures heading for the buildings, everyone desperate to escape the torrents of water. "At this rate they'll soon have a pool instead of a court, anyway."

"That would require the fences to be of a somewhat more substantial build." Kurt was there next to him, all of a sudden, as wet as Logan himself yet still somehow grinning, messy hair getting matted together with his fur and rather bringing to mind the image of a drowned rat. "At best we might find some puddles that would make playing rather unpleasant."

"Yeah, well, nobody's about to play in this weather, anyway. And besides, by all rights the ones who lost the ball should be the ones looking for it, anyway." Even his shoes were soaked through, and it was still a long way inside. "Why are you out here, anyway? I'd have thought you'd have enough sense to get out of the way the moment the first drops came down."

"Why, that would have been quite unfair, don't you think? After all, you have to suffer through this downpour, Mein Freund."

"Yeah, well, I also don't need a fucking hair dryer for my toes."

"Oh, I wouldn't know." Kurt's grin widened a bit. "You are rather hairy in certain parts." Then, before Logan could formulate a response, Kurt had grabbed his arm and the world slouched away into something dark and smelling distinctly of sulfur.

Then, faster than he could blink, Logan found himself in his own room.

Kurt let go of his arm and stepped back, still giving him that maddening grin. "I thought this might be the more pleasant solution."

"Damn right." Logan toed off his wet shoes, then struggled out of the equally soaked shirt. He had little care left for modesty; it wasn't like Kurt had never seen him without a shirt before, anyway.

Kurt had also managed to get out of his own shirt, Logan noticed as he glanced in the elf's direction. The fur on his now bare chest was also wet, glued in a thin, shiny layer over planes of lean muscle. As Logan managed to tear his eyes up again, he found Kurt wearing a thoughtful expression, as though something had just occurred to him.

Logan lifted his eyebrows. "If you try to shake yourself dry, I'll throw you out of the fucking window."

Kurt didn't say anything to that, just grinned, his teeth a brilliant white against the near-black of his wet fur. He moved, then, so fast the only reason Logan knew he hadn't just teleported was the lack of the usual sound and smell, and all of a sudden he was right in front of Logan, one blue, long-fingered hand resting against his chest. It was cold and wet and slick against his skin, only for a moment, before the heat bled through as the fur failed to hold it in as usual.

For a moment they breathed each other's air, the warmth of Kurt's breath on his wet skin sending a shiver down Logan's spine. Then the elf leaned in closer, his lips pressing against Logan's, and the warmth grew unbearable as it made his skin prickle and burn.

A growl tore itself out from Logan's throat, and Kurt was pressed close enough he could feel him tremble. It was a good tremble, though, not one of fear, and as Logan's arms wrapped themselves around Kurt's slight body he found a hand reaching up into his wet hair in response.

They tumbled onto the bed somehow, Kurt half entangled with him before they even made it there, arms and legs and tail draping themselves around apparently every part of Logan that he could possibly reach. He might have protested, the phrase wet limpet certainly came to mind, except he was being very thoroughly distracted by other parts of Kurt's rather unique anatomy.

There were many discoveries Logan made that day. He came to know that Kurt's teeth could be very sharp indeed as they bit into his shoulder, and also that the brief shiver of pain that flashed through him before the healing factor kicked in seemed to tug at cords directly connected to his groin. The flexibility and dexterity Kurt showed in his somersaults and leaps also applied to other, less acrobatic pursuits that regardless took Logan's breath away, and while his toes were not quite as dexterous as his fingers they could do amazing things nevertheless. Logan also found out that aside from his lips, there was only one part of Kurt that was not covered in fur, and even that was only when it came sliding out of its sheath.

(The man actually had a penile sheath. Logan probably should have been more surprised, but frankly, the prehensile tail was weirder and he had gotten used to that.)

Afterwards his sheets were damp from two wet bodies rolling all over them, Kurt's fur was still slick and smooth over the warm skin underneath, and if Logan was breathing a bit harder than usual nobody was around to tell. Kurt was there, yes, but he seemed rather content to just curl up next to him, one leg reached over Logan's body in what could not possibly have been a possessive display because nobody was there to see.

Logan might have murmured something about the smell of a wet dog because he was a bastard, but Kurt knew better than to grace that comment with anything more than a chuckle and a small nip at his arm.

They showed up for dinner very much late, hair still wet and Kurt wearing one of Logan's t-shirts in what had to be a deliberate point because he could have just as easily hopped over to his room to get one of his own, but Logan's challenging look at the rest of the teaching staff gained nothing more than a few knowing smirks and a muttered, "Fucking finally," from Bobby.

He was actually feeling good enough he was even going to ignore the fact he caught Emma of all people, with a rather disgruntled expression, slipping the professor what looked like a twenty dollar bill.


	4. Return Ticket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt has gotten much closer than Logan ever expected, and he isn't sure how to cope with that. What he does know, quite clearly when Raven spells it out, is that his first reaction is Not Acceptable.
> 
> It's all Kurt's fault anyway.

Kurt was asleep in his bed.

This was not, Logan was aware, a unique occurrence. It wasn't every night that this happened, no, he was still too territorial to allow it as a rule, but lately it did seem the elf spent the night in his bed more often than not.

It had started with the sex, like so many bad habits did, with Kurt stretching himself afterwards and then curling up like a contented cat, and Logan had been too tired to kick him out even when he tried to get snuggly, though he did draw the line at actual cuddling. After the first time it seemed Kurt had taken it as his right to stay over every time they'd had sex, and, hey, clearly he was sharing his bed with the elf of his own free will, so he didn't have much room to argue if that extended to actual sleep as well.

Once he had accepted that, it had been somewhat less surprising to find himself with bedtime company even when there was no sex involved. Sometimes he didn't get into his bed until the wee hours of morning, having watched a late game or found something else to occupy himself with, only to find that Kurt was already there, curled up under the covers as though that was where he belonged. Logan never bothered to do much in those cases, simply nudging the elf aside until there was enough room for them both, and if Kurt had a bad habit of turning to him and slinging a sleepy arm over him as soon as he was settled in, well, at least he wasn't going to get cold.

This, however, was quite different.

Logan stared up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room, perfectly still. He could only hear one other breath in the room beside his own, one other heartbeat. It had been there when he woke up, steady and familiar, calm in deep slumber. Clearly Kurt had been asleep for a while by now.

He hadn't been there when Logan fell asleep.

He was aware this was not an important distinction to most people. Oh, he was clearly fine with finding Kurt already in his bed when he got there; why wouldn't he have also accepted the elf getting into bed after him? He had no idea what the guy got out of sharing a bed with him, but it wasn't like it was hurting Logan in any way, so what did he care? And he didn't, not really, not as long as it was just about the soft breath in the darkness and the hand that came just short of touching his underneath the covers.

What he did take issue with was that he had been asleep when Kurt arrived, and he hadn't woken up.

This should have never happened. Logan hadn't lived this long being careless, and he had always been a light sleeper. He should have startled awake the moment anyone was at his door, never mind someone actually making their way all the way across the room and into his bed. Instead he had woken up to a nameless nightmare much later, with Kurt already fast asleep beside himself, and even then it had taken him a few moments to realize he was not alone in the room.

It shouldn't have mattered. Clearly, Kurt was not a threat, and his body knew it as well as his mind did. Really, he should have been glad, knowing that his instincts hadn't gotten the better of him and skewered the guy in his sleep or something equally fucked up. He wouldn't have put it past himself, really, not with what little he did know about himself. 

Except this meant he had gone soft. His senses had failed to alert him, had let him sleep right through a potential threat, and it was all because of the man sleeping there just barely out of his reach, breathing softly as though there was no safer place on Earth than right there in Logan's bed.

Logan had allowed Kurt to get under his skin, and the elf had made a whole damn nest in there.

He got out of bed quietly, careful not to wake the man slumbering on the other side, and didn't stop until he had crossed the Canadian border.

*

Someone set down a glass on the table opposite to him.

Logan lifted his head, all ready to growl at the intruder and get them to leave. However, he was left staring as a blonde who was far too gorgeous to be anywhere near a dive like this sat down in the seat opposite to him, crossing her legs in an almost dainty manner.

"Took you long enough." Raven lifted one perfect eyebrow, one fingernail tapping her glass with a small tinkling sound.

"You stalking me now?" He took a long pull of his beer. "Didn't think I was on a leash that tight."

"Don't be ridiculous." She pursed her lips. "I wouldn't go to all that trouble. Irene told me to wait here for you to show up today."

"Of course she did." And that, he was never going to stop finding that just fucking freaky. "So why are you here? To ask me back?"

"Heavens, no. Why would I ever want someone like you anywhere near my darling son?" Raven finally picked up her drink, taking a dainty little sip, and that was just ridiculous. He knew all too well she could have downed a drink like that in one go.

"So what are you doing here, then? Just wanted to say hello?"

"Why, I'd think it would be obvious." Raven leaned back in her seat, and her eyes flashed golden, just for a second. "I'm here to deliver an ultimatum."

"On whose behalf?" Because he rather doubted the elf would have sent her after him. It didn't seem like his style.

"My own. Because, well, I can be quite the bitch." Again, the fingernails against the glass. "Kurt is quite heartbroken, you know."

"Never promised him a thing." And if he kept reminding himself of that, maybe he'd feel like less of an ass for leaving him behind.

"Indeed you didn't." She raised an eyebrow again. "And, as I said, I have no reason to want you around him. I think we both are well aware that Kurt could do much better than you."

"Never said otherwise." It was true enough. For all that many people still looked at him as a freak, Kurt still could have done so much better than old grouchy Logan. Maybe he could get together with Warren, he was pretty and classy enough to live up to the elf's level.

"What concerns me is what you do next." Raven paused for a moment, humming to herself. "If you wish to drive away, do so. Go on, leave us all behind, and never come back. I will not ask you to return, nor will anyone else track you down. Kurt will be miserable but he'll get over it in time. He's far too optimistic for his own good, that kid. He'd probably bounce back from just about anything."

"Like something as unimportant as me could keep him down."

"Quite right." She brought her hand up for a critical look at her nails, as though they would have dared to be anything but perfect. "Believe me, I have full faith in his ability to be quite happy without you anywhere near. So, if that is your choice, I'll get up now and leave you some gas money so you can get a bit farther still."

"Right." He took another gulp of his beer. "So you're saying I have other options?"

"There are always options. Doesn't mean they're always pleasant." Raven fixed him a sharp gaze, now, and there was definitely a hint of cold, gleaming gold in there. "If you plan to come back, I expect you to make some promises. Tell Kurt when you are coming back, how long you plan to stay, whether you plan to be loyal to him or if he's just a bit of fun on the side. He's awfully naive sometimes, but even so he deserves to know where he stands. At the moment he's pining after you because you left him with nothing to go on. If you aren't gone forever, let him know what your plans are, and he can make up his mind on whether you are worth his time."

"I'm sensing a but here." There always was, wasn't there.

"Oh, but of course." She took on such a sweet tone, he could feel his teeth ache simply from listening to it. "If you do come back and make promises — any promises, however small and fleeting — I expect you to keep them. And if you break those promises," she gave him a smile that held far too many teeth, and far too sharp, "believe me, I will find a way to kill you for good."

Logan snorted. "You'd be the first."

"Oh, I never said I'd get it right the first time. But I'd be quite happy to keep trying." She tapped her nails against her glass one last time. "You have his number, I know you do. I'm going to drive back to Westchester once I leave from here. If he hasn't heard from you by then, I'll assume you chose to drive off, and tell him so. Nobody's going to hunt you down, don't worry. We don't believe in holding people back against their will."

"Sure seems like it."

"Nobody's forcing you to give your word on anything, Logan. It's just that if you choose not to, you also choose not to have anything to do with my son." She stood up now, all put together and picture perfect, such a stark contrast to their dingy surroundings. "Don't worry your head with it too long. There's only so much time I can take on the road."

Logan didn't look up as she walked past him, perhaps the only pair of eyes in the place that didn't follow her out. His gaze was locked in the depths of what little remained of his beer. The amber glinted with an almost golden hue in the low light. Almost like Kurt's eyes in shadow.

Closing his eyes, he emptied the glass in one long pull.

Thinking had never been what he did best, anyway.

*

Logan had never been good with packing.

It wasn't like he didn't have his reasons, really. Half the time he didn't really have enough to carry that he would have been able to do anything that even remotely passed for packing, and even when he happened to have more to take with him, none of it ever held much sentimental value. He made a point of having a change of clothes when he could, and when he couldn't, he'd deal anyway. There wasn't much he would care about having with him on the road.

Which was, of course, why he was currently staring at his half-full bag and cursing.

This was ridiculous. He should have just tossed everything and jumped into his car to drive off. Why did he need to take anything along, anyway? As long as he had some gas money, he could buy a shirt in some corner shop when his old one got too stinky. It didn't matter. He'd find clothes and food somewhere. He already had some cash in his pocket, anything else was extra.

Yes, that sounded like an excellent plan. Forget packing altogether and just drive off. Save himself some headache.

"Are you ready yet, Mein Freund?"

He snorted as Kurt jumped onto the bed where his bag was set. "Not exactly my area of expertise, elf. You can't expect me to just rush through this."

"You are the one with all the traveling experience." He could swear Kurt's eyes were twinkling, and damn, that was just disturbing. "How hard can it be to prepare a bag?"

"You forget, this is pretty much the first time I'm going to have anyone along." As Kurt merely raised an eyebrow, Logan grunted. "Meaning you're going to complain if I start to stink."

"Ja, I certainly would. But even then, it should not be such a challenge." Kurt jumped onto the end of the bed, perching on a bedpost like some kind of a demented gargoyle. "I thought you wanted to leave as soon as possible?"

"Yeah, sure. Except until half an hour ago I thought that wouldn't be until tonight. Not that I'm complaining that Chuck decided to let me off the leash earlier, but it does leave me with less time to prepare."

Okay, definitely twinkling. "And do you know why he changed his mind?"

Logan gave a grunt that might have been interpreted as a question. Not like he was going to give a damn how the stupid elf took it, after all.

"He knew that you had planned to leave before the agreed time either way just to make a point."

"I admit to nothing." Logan gave him a wry gaze. "And why would he know that, assuming it is true? I've only shared my plans with a certain someone. Feeling chatty today, are you?"

"Oh, please. I wouldn't spoil your fun like that." What, why was the elf talking like Logan was some kind of a kid throwing a tantrum for fun? "It is merely very hard to keep things from the good Professor, or so I find."

"Yeah, all that mental eavesdropping must come in handy sometimes." No, he still wasn't convinced Charles entirely stuck to his promise of never peeking into his head without permission. It would have taken a saint to stick to something like that, and Logan did not believe in saints.

"You are so cynical, Mein Freund." Kurt was wavering on his perch, and really, Logan should have known that simply sitting still for a moment was too much of an effort for him. He sometimes wondered how Kurt could hope to keep the brats in line when he was the most restless one in the classroom.

"The sad thing, I'm often right." He tossed another shirt into his bag. "Doesn't help that I'm stuck here with all you optimistic idiots. Someone's got to keep a bit of sense in this place or you'll all end up getting yourselves killed."

"I do not believe many people have called Mutter optimistic. Rather, I would say she rather shares your tendency for cynicism. Emma certainly does seem to."

"And yet they both seem to buy into Chuck's propaganda about a brighter future and a happier world. Which, really, how the hell can he keep thinking that? It's all going to come down around his ears one of these days."

"And you do not believe in it?" Kurt cocked his head to the side like a curious bird. "Then why do you stay here?"

"You know damn well why." Not that Logan was ever going to say it aloud. He'd said it once, in a hastily typed text, sent before he could take anything back. Kurt probably had it saved somewhere, he was sentimental like that, and he'd want to keep a proof of Logan's promises besides. In that, at least, he wasn't a complete idiot.

Kurt's smirk softened a bit. "Ja, I do believe I do." Then, his smirk returned. "Not that you seem to have entirely contended yourself with the idea of living here, given how much of a haste you are in to leave."

"Yeah, well, one more day in this madhouse and I'll end up taking someone's head off, so it's really better for everyone that I get out as soon as possible." No, seriously, he was going to throw the whole damn bag through a window and be done with it.

"Perhaps it would be best then not to try your patience with this particular chore." This time the bed hardly seemed to move as Kurt leapt over, light as a feather. "How about you go take a look at the car, make sure it is all working, ja? I will take care of this."

"Because you're obviously going to be so much better at it."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. I did already finish packing my own things, though, and at least I will not murder someone over my frustration." His hand touched Logan's, a fleeting touch for just a second, but it was enough to calm him down a bit.

"Right." Logan sighed. "Fine, you take care of it. With my luck I'll just forget to take it along anyway."

"Oh, you wouldn't. I plan to bring it along myself, and I trust that you would not flee without me." Before Logan could make any comment on that and quite possibly earn the wrath of elf upon himself, Kurt leaned in, the soft fur on his cheek brushing against Logan's face as he murmured right into his ear. "I will be sure to take the lubricant along as well."

Logan barked out a laugh. "Should have known you've got your own plans for the vacation." He touched Kurt's hand in turn, fingertips sliding along the short, smooth fur at the back of his hand. "We'll leave in an hour. You'd better be in the car by then, because I'm driving off with or without you."

"I'm sure you will." Kurt's smirk made it quite clear he did not believe a word Logan said.

And somehow, in a strange way, Logan found he was quite all right with that.


End file.
